


Turtle Pond

by emilyevanston



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky feeds some ducks, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Smut, Vaginal Sex, and there's a turtle eating strawberries, what else could you want really?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 16:38:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10643856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilyevanston/pseuds/emilyevanston
Summary: You meet a man feeding ducks and you both decided to make it a habit.





	

You stroll along the path that skirts the outside of the Great Lawn in Central Park.  It’s a warm day and the lawn is swarming with people on each side.   Lying in the sun.  Listening to music and talking. There are a lot of couples making out and families playing.  You turn around the corner and the trees return.  Adding that pleasant cool you always associate with being in the Park.  When you reach the statue of King Jagiello sitting astride his horse and holding his swords aloft you turn towards Turtle Pond.  

There’s a couple of families taking an opportunity to rest on the wall that surrounds an open paved area that occasionally holds seating but today stands empty.  Their faces are flushed from exertion.  On the other side of the wall people take up residence on stones around the edge of Turtle Pond.  Some sitting and looking at Belvedere Castle up on the hill on the other side of the pond.  Some just talking and resting their feet.  There’s a lady painting.  And a couple of children are trying to coax a turtle out of the water with a piece of reed.

You find an empty rock to sit on between a couple who can’t stop staring into each other's eyes and a man with long dark hair and who is wearing far too many clothes for such a warm day.  He’s eating a sandwich and drinking coffee from a Thermos.  You can smell its pleasant aroma from where you sit.

You pull out your own lunch and as you start to eat a small group of ducks swims over.  The lure of two potential food sources too strong for them.

The man beside you tears a piece of his sandwich off and throws it to them.  They squabble over the piece of crust and more come to join them.

“Sorry, I am totally gonna come off as a complete bitch and I really don’t mean to.  But you shouldn’t feed them bread.  It’s really bad for them.”  You say.

He looks at you startled.  “Oh no.”  He says.  “I always fed them bread when I was a kid.  I thought it was okay.”

“It’s alright.  Most people don’t know.  But they don’t get any nutrition from it.  They end up starving with full bellies.  Also, it can compact in their throat and the only way to clear it is surgery.” You say.

“Shit. Sorry.”  He says.

“Thank you.”  You say, smiling at him.

He looks at you puzzled.  His hair hangs over his eyes and when he brushes it off, you see they’re a beautiful shade of grey/blue.   “What for?  I was just murdering ducks.”

You laugh.   “For listening.  Mostly when I tell people they tell me to fuck off and mind my own business.”

“People are jerks.”  He says.

You reach into your bag and pull out a Tupperware container and a paper bag.  You take the lid off the container and place it in reach of both of you.  You then open the bag and offer it to him.  “You can feed them this if you like.”

He reaches into the bag and takes out a handful of cracked corn.  “You brought corn for them special?”

You blush.  “Yeah.  And the grapes.  But the turtles like them too. Also sometimes I just eat them.”

He tosses the corn and the ducks start collecting up as much as they can.  A couple of turtles start heading in your direction, the fracas the ducks are making drawing their attention.

“That’s really sweet.  You really like ducks, huh?”  He asks.

“Um… yeah.  I like animals in general.  I work as a vet assistant.  And I volunteer with a group that rehabilitates New York wildlife.  It’s mostly pigeons, to be honest.  You can see them over near West 87thand Columbus.”  You babble.  The two turtles have made it over to the edge of your rocks and you toss half a grape down to them.  They both try to grab it and miss and the piece of fruit sinks into the water.

The man takes two grape halves and places them about two inches apart on the rock right at the edge of the water.  “That’s really swell.” He says.  The turtles pop their heads out of the water and start eating the grapes as he settles back on the rock.  He takes another grape half and pops it in his mouth.

Neither of you says anything for a moment.  He takes a drink of his coffee and you throw another handful of corn to the ducks before taking a huge mouthful of your own food.

“Where do you get the special duck corn from?”  The man asks.

You try to answer with the word Amazon, but your mouth is so stuffed it just comes out ‘ah-ah-on.’  You cover your mouth and look at him mortified as he throws his head back in laughter.  A few ducks take off, scared by the sounds and the two turtles retract their heads into their shells.

You hurriedly chew and swallow your food.  “Oh god.  I’m sorry.  I’m a pig.  Amazon.  I order it on Amazon.”

“You buy special duck corn on the Internet?”  He asks.  “Damn.  You must really love the ducks.”

“I do.”  You take a handful of the food and scoot right to the edge of the water holding your hand out.  Two of the more brazen ducks paddle over and start cautiously pecking the corn out of your hand.

“Look at you, kid.  You’re like a genuine Disney Princess.”  The man says.

The two children who were trying to feed the turtle see what you’re doing and scramble over the rocks to take a closer look.  “Can we try that?”  The older boy asks.  You hand the children the bag and let them take over duck feeding duty before sitting back on the rock.

The man smiles at you and goes to say something when his phone buzzes. He pulls it out of his pocket.  “Shit.”  He says.  “Gotta go.   It was nice meeting you, Snow White.”

He stands and salutes you before jumping from rock to rock and disappearing back into the park.

One week later you’re sitting on a rock on the edge of Turtle Pond eating your lunch and scattering cracked corn on the rocks around you to entice the birds out of the water.  The pond is quieter today.  Just a couple taking selfies together, trying to get the castle in the background and another lone woman four rocks down enjoying her own lunch in the sun.

“Hey, it’s the duck gal.”  A familiar voice says.  You look up to see the same man from last week hopping the wall and walking towards you. Once again dressed very warmly for such a pleasant summer’s day. The gloves are the thing that surprises you.  Leather gloves in this heat must feel awful.  “I was hoping I’d see you again.”

You smile up at him as he approaches you.  “I’m here every Saturday. Weather permitting.”

He sits beside you.  Not so close that you feel uncomfortable, but close enough that it feels familiar.  Some of the ducks scatter and quack at the disturbance.  “That’s good to know.”  He smiles.

He pulls his lunch from his backpack.  Another sandwich and the thermos of coffee.  He has some halved grapes this time too.  He tosses some to the end of the rock.  A few roll into the water and some ducks pick up a couple but most sit there waiting for some turtles to notice them.

“You brought grapes.”  You remark.

“I liked watching the turtles eat them.”  He says.

“If you bring strawberries it’s cuter.  They like them more and the juice gets all over their faces.”  You reply.

He smiles at you.  “I’ll remember that for next time.”  He offers you his hand.  “My names Bucky.”  He says.

You shake it and give him your name.  “Bucky’s an unusual name.”  You say.

He runs his hand through his hair and lets it fall over his eyes.  “It’s a nickname.  My real name is James.”

“Normally people named James get it shortened to Jim.  Which really barely makes any sense.  Maybe more than Bucky though.  Where did Bucky come from?”  You muse.

Bucky looks flustered.  “I – well – my middle name is Buchanan.  I don’t know why people decided to go with that.  Everyone did though. I like it more than James or Jimmy.  It’s just mine.”

“Okay then. Bucky it is.”  You say.

You offer some of the corn to Bucky and he tosses a hand full so it scatters across the surface of the water.  “I went by the rescue last week.  Those pigeons are fancy.  I like the one with the feathery feet.”

“I call him boots.  He’s a fairy swallow pigeon.  He probably came from some rooftop breeder and got tangled up in some trash.  I’m sure we’ll find him his home again.”  You say.

For some reason, the conversation stays on pigeons for a really long time. It never feels forced though.  He’s weirdly interested in everything you say.  You talk different breeds.  How you think they’re misunderstood.  How they keep insect populations down.  How they aren’t diseased like everyone says they’ve just adapted to be around people.  After a while, an alarm goes off on his phone and he pulls it out and switches it off.

“Shit. I have to go back to work.  I can’t believe we just talked about pigeons for half an hour and I actually enjoyed it.  You’re something else, doll.”  Bucky says, getting up and wiping himself off.  “I’ll bring strawberries next time.  Maybe you’ll be here too.”

“I usually am.”  You reply.

One week later you’re in the same spot where you were the previous week. It’s more overcast today.  It looks like you’re in for a summer shower.  You’re the only one there.  Some people are sitting on the wall eating, but no one is around Turtle Pond at all.  Bucky arrives five minutes after you and sits on the rock beside you.  A little closer than last time.   The way your hands rest on the rough surface of the rock if you moved your hand even an inch they’d be touching.

“I brought strawberries,”   Bucky says.

“They’ll love that.”  You reply.

He shifts onto his knees and starts trying to coax a turtle out of the water with a strawberry.  It bites the fruit while still in the water and then follows Bucky’s hand leading it out.  It sits on the rock slowly eating the strawberry.  Its face turning pink from the juice.

“Look at how happy it looks.”  You say, grinning.

Bucky looks at you, his eyes soft.  “Yeah, it’s really cute.”

He sits back and pulls his lunch out of his backpack.  “I have extra coffee if you want some.  I didn’t know how you took it so I brought some non-dairy creamer and sugar.”

“Thank you, that would be nice.”  You reply.

He pulls out two tin cups and pours coffee into each one and then offers your sugar and creamer from the front pocket of his backpack.  You take one of each and add them to your cup.

You and Bucky sit and watch the turtle for a little while as you eat. Two others join it and Bucky rolls two more strawberries down the rock to them.

“So tell me,”  Bucky says after a while. “Is it just wild animals you love or do you have any pets?”

“You know how last week we talked about pigeons for half an hour?”  You say.

He nods enthusiastically.

“Don’t get me started talking about my cats.”

Bucky laughs.  “Go on.  I want to hear.”

You pull your phone out of your bag and open up your photos.  You scoot a little closer to Bucks you his arm is behind you and you can both see the screen.  “I adopt cats from rescues when no one else wants them.”  You explain.  “This is C-fer.  He’s old and kinda mean. He’s missing a tooth which is good because he likes to pounce at your ankles and bite them.”   You flick to another photo.  “This one is Pepper.  She’s missing an eye.  She’s really sweet though.  She’s my main lap cat.  She pretty much rides me around the house when I’m home.  On my shoulder, in my lap, draped around my neck.”  You flick to the last photo.  “This is Esper.  He is really shy. Mostly he likes sitting next to me with a paw on me.  Or he hides under cabinets.  Especially when other people are there.  He’s missing his front leg, see?”

“I can relate to Esper,”  Bucky says.

“You like to hide under cabinets?”  

He laughs.  “When people are around, I do.  I also like keeping a paw on the people I love.”

You laugh and look at him.  “Well aren’t you a cute little kitty.  Be careful or I’ll adopt you too.”

“I’m missing an arm too.”  He says, matter of factly.

You turn to him startled.  “Really?  But you – your arms – I couldn’t even tell!”

“No the prosthetic is pretty state of the art.  It’s kinda why I wear so much.  People stare.”  He says.

You frown.  “I’m sorry.  People are so rude.”

“It’s not that… It’s more people…”  He shakes his head.  “Never mind.  We were talking about your cats which are much my interesting than I am.”

You spend an hour talking about your cats.  His alarm goes off and he ignores it.  Only reluctantly leaving when his boss calls to find out where he is.

Every week you meet up with Bucky at Turtle Pond.  Every week he finds out more about you and you find out more about him.   He admits to being an Avenger.  That one shocked you.  You don’t really pay _that_ much attention to the Avengers but you feel like an idiot for not realizing.  He eventually shows you his arm.  State of the art was the biggest understatement you’d ever heard.  It was a work of art. The way the metal glinted in the sun as the plates shifted when he moved.  He was nervous to show you but after he does he starts showing up in short sleeved t-shirts or tank tops and shorts.  Like he doesn’t even care that people start at him or recognize him anymore.

The little lunchtime meet-ups become more like lunch time dates. You each start bringing things for the other.  You bake cookies one week, he brings tropical fruit the next.  He starts brings a picnic rug and arriving before you, spreading it out on the stone.  You start sitting closer and closer to each other until it becomes commonplace to just be using him as a leaning post his arm curled around your body.

After seven weeks of this you and Bucky sit watching the ducks squabble over some corn.  Your head is on Bucky’s shoulder and he tilts your face to his.  “Hey, doll?” He says.

“Uh huh?”  You reply.

“Do you think I could maybe kiss you?”  He asks.

“I’d like that.”  You reply.

He brings his lips to yours.  They are soft and plump and fit perfectly against yours.  His tongue teases over your top lip and you open your mouth giving him full access.  He pushes his tongue in it dances with yours.  He tastes like coffee and tropical fruit.

When he pulls back you feel light headed and you blink up at him. “That was nice.”   You say.

He laughs.  “It was.”  He agrees.  “I’d like to do more of it.”

“Me too.”

His hand goes to your jaw and he runs his thumb over your cheek.  “Do you think I could take you out on a proper date, doll?  Maybe dinner and a movie?”

“Yes, but do you think I can count these as proper dates too?  I’ve liked them more than most dates I’ve been on.”  You say.

“That sounds fair.”  Bucky agrees.

“Hey Bucky, you know how some people have a rule about how many dates they go on before they sleep with another person?”

“Yeah.”  He says, a smile spreading over his features.

“How many times have we done this now?”  You ask.

He pauses and thinks.  “Ten all up I think.”

“My numbers ten.”  You say.

Bucky bursts out laughing his head thrown back.  “Your place? Mine’s a little busy.”

You nod and you both get up, packing up your lunch and throwing the last of the corn and fruit to the ducks.

You take his hand in yours and lead him back through the park, by the people sunning themselves on the on the Great Lawn.  Back into the cool and past the Delacort Theater where they do the free Shakespeare.  Up and down hills past swing sets and children’s playgrounds until your out on Central Park West.  You walk up the road for a while and then cross down one of the numbered streets to get to Columbus.  You stop at one of the general stores along the way and buy a packet of condoms.  The shopkeeper rings you up and then tells you to both have a nice night before laughing at his own joke.  You finally reach the building where you apartment sits above a busy dry cleaners and take him up the narrow staircase to your front door.

“It’s a bit shitty.  Just warning you.”  You say before opening the door.  He follows you into your studio apartment.  The cats all come out to greet you.  Pepper rubbing her face on both yours and Bucky’s legs.  Esper meows at you before disappearing under a cabinet and C-fer attacks your ankle.

“I’ve had much worse places than this.’  He says, looking around the room. It’s small and shabby, but you look after it.  Your full sized bed sits against the wall with a plush, patchwork bedspread draped over it.  You have a small pine table by the kitchen with two mismatched chairs and in the middle of the room is a squashy, striped couch, facing your TV.  Around the edge of the room are various bookshelves and cabinets filled with books and knick-knacks you’ve accumulated over the years, along with a large cat tree.  Your kitchen is in a cut out alcove at the front of the room and there’s a door on the back that leads to your bathroom.

He approaches you as you close and lock the door, dropping his bag by the wall.  His arms wrap around you and he kisses you.  It starts slow.  Just a little bit hesitant.  This is only your second kiss after all.  It’s a big leap from second kiss to the bedroom, but you know each other and you’re comfortable with him.  So it quickly deepens.

You start tugging on his shirt, leading him backwards to your bed. As you slowly make your way to it you shed clothing.  You pull his shirt off first.  He reciprocates by removing yours.   You each take care of your own shorts.  Awkwardly wriggling out of them without breaking your kiss or dropping your own bag.  He unclasps your bra after a brief struggle with it and you push each other's underwear down before you fall back onto the mattress and pull him down on top of you.

You spend a long time just like that on the bed.  Rolling about just touching each other.  Sometimes he’s on top of you.  Sometimes you’re on top of him.  Sometimes your just lying side by side facing each other.  Your hands roam each other's bodies the whole time, touching every inch of skin they can reach and your lips never part.

It becomes torture and your hand slides down to his cock.  You roll your hand over the head, slicking it with the precome that has been leaking out and smearing onto your skin for a while now.  You use it as lubricant, allowing your hand to slide up and down his shaft easily.  He moans into your mouth and follows your lead.  His hand slipping down between your legs.  His fingers sliding between your folds, traveling first down to the entrance of your cunt and then back up and over your clit.  Circling it in small quick strokes.

“Bucky.”  You moan.

Bucky’s lips had moved to your jaw as soon as you opened your mouth to speak.  “Mm-hmm…”  He hums.

“I can’t take it anymore.  You gotta fuck me.”  You plead.

Bucky looks up at you, a smile on his face and his eyes twinkling. “Wow.  You got a mouth on you.”  He says.  “You got it, doll.”

He reaches for your bag and pulls the box of condoms out.  You take it from him and pull one out.  Tearing the pack open.  You roll it down over his shaft and as soon as your hand moves away he is inside of you.

You clench around him and throw your head back with a loud moan.  He runs his metal hand along your jaw, his thumb stroking your bottom lip.  You let it into your mouth and suck on it. The metallic taste overwhelming your taste buds.

“Damn.  You feel so good, doll.”  Buck growls in your ear.

It’s like you’re in sensory overload.  Your skin prickles and a tingle creeps from your cunt out creating a pressure in your stomach. A deep need for release.

Bucky rolls you over suddenly so you’re on top.  You put your hands on his chest and start to ride him.  You move quickly like you’re its a race.  His hands rest on your breast, squeezing them and pinching your nipples.  Sweat beads on your skin.

“Slow down, dah'lin.”  Bucky pants, looking up into your eyes.

You force yourself into a slower pace and he moves his hands to your hips and starts guiding them so you rolls them and twist them.   It’s a rhythmic movement.  Like you’re belly dancing in place on his lap. His fingers move to your clit and as he starts to rub it, your orgasm breaks and takes hold of you.  

You lean back, gripping his thick thigh muscles and you cry out. Bucky starts to thrust up into you as your frozen in the grip of your orgasm.  He grunts suddenly, slamming up into you and spills. His cock pulsing as it empties.

You collapse down on top of him.  Lying on him like a blanket.  He awkwardly removes the condom and tosses it into the wastebasket by your bed.

He trails his hands up down your back as you both lie there, letting you breathing even out.  “You just gonna stay there forever?”  He asks.

“Mmm… I think so.”  You reply.

“But what about the ducks?”

You laugh and kiss his jaw.  “Fine.  I’ll get up to go feed the ducks.”


End file.
